


A Little Rebellion Never Hurt

by raggirare



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 23:27:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2169330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raggirare/pseuds/raggirare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because dettsu made mohawk!Seijuurou a thing. I really don't know what this is otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Rebellion Never Hurt

Makoto had always remembered the biggest stepping stone in his relationship as being having to help his mother come to terms with the fact that no, mother, Seijuurou doesn’t have a rebellious streak in him, yes, mother, that is his natural hair colour, no, mother, he’s not the odd one out, yes, mother, he does have foreign blood - and even at the end of all of it, he had still caught her making sideway glances in his boyfriend’s direction until he somehow managed to prove that he really was a straight arrow not about to lead her son down some untowardly path.

That had been three years ago.

Makoto himself was still on a well-to-do path, attending university in Kyoto where he was studying to become a veterinarian, maintaining a good grade average, holding down a part-time job as a barista in a campus cafe and living in an apartment with that very same boyfriend. He had made many new friends in the big city, and still kept contact with his swimming friends in an even bigger city further north, and, all-in-all, life seemed to be going perfect.

The outlier was said boyfriend.

Seijuurou was attending the same university, though his specialty was in sports science, and his part-time job involved coaching a swim team at a nearby high school and his grades were above average and he had built a reputation within the university swim team.

But there was metal in his ears and ink decorating the back of one of his thighs with the symbol from his highschool team jacket and, as of earlier that evening when Seijuurou had returned home from his training with a grin on his face, only half of the amount of hair that should have been on his head.

If Makoto had been obvious about his surprise and lack of enthusiastic _joy_ for his boyfriend’s new hairstyle, the red head hadn’t made any point of noting it. Instead, he’d simply greeted the younger male with a kiss and gone about his usual Friday night routine before heading into the shower to wash the chlorine from his hair while Makoto finished making dinner.

It wasn’t until two days later that Makoto finally made a decision about whether he liked the new cut or not, when he looked up from the book in his lap to his equally studious boyfriend sitting beside him. The realization left him questioning himself about why there had ever been any doubt about the fact in the first place.

(And the moan that escaped Seijuurou’s mouth when lips and teeth claimed a pierced earlobe and tugged made Makoto wonder why he hadn’t reached this sort of conclusion earlier.)


End file.
